The Great Exchange: Rubbish for Righteousness Text: Philippians 3:1-11
Introduction: The Centrality of Joy
The book of Philippians is saturated with joy. It is a letter written from a jail cell, and yet it rings with the kind of gladness that circumstances cannot touch. Paul begins this chapter with an exhortation that is also the central theme of the entire letter: "Finally, my brothers, rejoice in the Lord." This is not a suggestion for when things are going well. It is a command, a charge, and a fundamental duty of the Christian life. And notice where the joy is to be located. It is not joy in our health, joy in our prosperity, or joy in our political victories. It is joy "in the Lord."
This joy is our strength, but it is also our safeguard. Paul says that writing these same things, reminding them of this central duty, is a protection for them. Why? Because the moment a Christian loses his joy in the Lord, he becomes vulnerable to every kind of doctrinal foolishness and temptation. A joyless Christian is a sitting duck for legalism, for despair, and for the allurements of the world. The war for your soul is a war for your joy.
And so, immediately after this command to rejoice, Paul pivots to a blistering warning. The joy of the Lord is a fortress, and outside the walls of that fortress are ravenous dogs. The transition is abrupt, but it is not accidental. True, robust, Christ-centered joy is the great antibiotic against the infection of legalism. The Judaizers were peddling a religion of human achievement, a gospel of "Jesus plus." And Paul is about to dismantle their entire resume, their entire system of self-righteousness, by showing that it is not only worthless, but is in fact a damnable liability.
The Text
Finally, my brothers, rejoice in the Lord. To write the same things again is no trouble to me, and it is a safeguard for you.
Beware of the dogs! Beware of the evil workers! Beware of the mutilation! For we are the circumcision, who worship in the Spirit of God and boast in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh, although I myself might have confidence even in the flesh. If anyone else has a mind to put confidence in the flesh, I far more: circumcised the eighth day, of the nation of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the Law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to the righteousness which is in the Law, found blameless.
But whatever things were gain to me, those things I have counted as loss for the sake of Christ. More than that, I count all things to be loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own which is from the Law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God upon faith, that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.
(Philippians 3:1-11 LSB)
The Dogs of Legalism (vv. 2-3)
Paul's warning is a rapid-fire, triple-barreled blast.
"Beware of the dogs! Beware of the evil workers! Beware of the mutilation!" (Philippians 3:2)
This is not polite theological discourse. This is spiritual warfare. The Judaizers were Jewish legalists who insisted that Gentile converts had to be circumcised and keep the Mosaic law to be saved. They were adding works to grace. Paul uses three devastating labels for them. First, "dogs." In that culture, this was not a reference to a beloved pet. Dogs were unclean, scavenging curs. The Jews often used this very term for Gentiles. Paul seizes their own insult and hurls it right back at them. You who are so concerned with ritual purity, he says, are the truly unclean ones.
Second, "evil workers." They were busy, they were religious, they were zealous. But their work was evil because it was aimed at undermining the finished work of Christ. All religion that is based on human effort is evil work. It is an attempt to build a tower to Heaven on the plains of Shinar, and God will not honor it. It is a rival salvation project.
Third, "the mutilation." The Greek word here is katatome, a play on the word for circumcision, peritome. Paul is saying that their version of circumcision, detached from faith in Christ, is not the covenant sign of inclusion but a grotesque act of self-mutilation. It is a cutting of the flesh that has no spiritual meaning. It's just a flesh-job. This is a profound insult. He is taking their central badge of honor and calling it a pagan gash.
Then he provides the glorious contrast:
"For we are the circumcision, who worship in the Spirit of God and boast in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh" (Philippians 3:3)
We, believers in Jesus, are the true circumcision. The real covenant sign is not an outward mark on the body but an inward reality worked by the Holy Spirit, a circumcision of the heart (Rom. 2:29). Paul gives three marks of this true circumcision. First, we worship in the Spirit of God, not through dead, fleshly rituals. Second, we boast in Christ Jesus, not in our own pedigree or performance. Our boast is entirely in what He has done. Third, and this is the central point, we put "no confidence in the flesh." The flesh here means everything that a man can be or do apart from the regenerating grace of God. It is the sum total of human religious achievement.
The Useless Resume (vv. 4-6)
To drive the point home, Paul lays his own resume on the table. If anyone could have confidence in the flesh, if this was a game that could be won, Paul says he would hold the winning hand.
"although I myself might have confidence even in the flesh. If anyone else has a mind to put confidence in the flesh, I far more: circumcised the eighth day, of the nation of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the Law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to the righteousness which is in the Law, found blameless." (Philippians 3:4-6 LSB)
He lists seven credentials, a perfect list of fleshly righteousness. He was circumcised on the eighth day, not as an adult convert, but as a true-blue son of the covenant. He was of the nation of Israel, God's chosen people. He was of the tribe of Benjamin, a loyal tribe that stayed with Judah. He was a Hebrew of Hebrews, meaning he was not a Hellenized, compromised Jew, but one who kept the language and the customs. As for the Law, he was a Pharisee, the strictest, most zealous sect. As for his zeal, it was so intense that he persecuted the church, believing he was defending God's honor. And as for the external righteousness prescribed by the Law, he was blameless. By any human standard, Saul of Tarsus was the model of religious devotion. He had a resume that would make any Judaizer green with envy.
The Great Calculation (vv. 7-9)
And what does he do with this impeccable resume? He takes it, along with everything else the world values, and he throws it in the garbage.
"But whatever things were gain to me, those things I have counted as loss for the sake of Christ. More than that, I count all things to be loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ" (Philippians 3:7-8 LSB)
This is the great exchange of the Christian faith. Paul pictures his life as a ledger. On one side, in the "gain" column, he had listed all his religious credentials. But when he met Christ on the Damascus road, he took every one of those assets and moved them over to the "loss" column. They were not just neutral; they were liabilities. Why? Because they were the very things that were keeping him from Christ. His own righteousness was blinding him to the righteousness of God.
He then broadens the scope. Not just his Jewish privileges, but "all things" are loss compared to the "surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." The word for "rubbish" here is skubala. It's a strong, coarse word. It can mean dung, refuse, garbage that you would throw out to the dogs he just mentioned. All his achievements, all his status, all his righteousness, he considers to be a pile of filth compared to the infinite treasure of knowing Christ.
And this is all so that he might "gain Christ" and, crucially, "be found in Him." This is the heart of the gospel:
"and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own which is from the Law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God upon faith" (Philippians 3:9 LSB)
Here are the two and only two possible religions in the world. You can stand before God on the day of judgment having a righteousness of your own, which comes from law-keeping. Or you can be found in Christ, having a righteousness that is not your own, but which is from God and is received by faith. The first is the religion of human achievement. The second is the religion of divine accomplishment. The first is what you do for God. The second is what God has done for you in Christ. The first leads to damnation, because your righteousness is a filthy rag. The second leads to eternal life, because Christ's righteousness is perfect.
The Goal of the Christian Life (vv. 10-11)
Having received this gift of righteousness, what is the goal? It is not to sit back and relax. The goal is to know the Giver of the gift more and more deeply.
"that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead." (Philippians 3:10-11 LSB)
This is the lifelong pursuit of the Christian. To "know Him" is not just intellectual knowledge, but a deep, personal, experiential intimacy. This knowledge has two sides. On the one hand, it is to know "the power of His resurrection." This is the same power that brought Jesus forth from the grave, and it is now at work in us, giving us victory over sin and empowering us for new life. It is the power to say no to temptation and yes to God.
But on the other hand, it is to know "the fellowship of His sufferings." The Christian life is not a playground; it is a battlefield. To follow Christ is to share in His rejection by the world. It means being "conformed to His death," which is a daily dying to self, to sin, and to the world's approval. The path to resurrection glory runs straight through the fellowship of suffering and the conformity to death. We share in His cross so that we might share in His crown. This is the normal Christian life. And the ultimate goal of it all is to "attain to the resurrection from the dead," the final, glorious hope of every believer when we will be raised with glorified bodies to live with Him forever.
Conclusion: Your Confidence
So the question this passage forces upon us is a simple one: Where is your confidence? When you think about your standing before a holy God, what is in the "gain" column of your ledger? Is it your church attendance, your moral efforts, your political tribe, your family background, your doctrinal precision? Is it your baptism, your clean living, your generosity?
If any of that is your confidence, Paul says you are building on a foundation of rubbish. You are trusting in the flesh. The only safe place to put your confidence is in the finished work of Jesus Christ. You must count all your own righteousness as loss, as dung, and cling to Christ alone.
This is not a one-time transaction. This is the daily logic of the Christian life. Every day we are tempted to put confidence in the flesh. Every day we must repent of our self-righteousness and flee again to Christ. We must boast in Him alone. It is only when we have no confidence in the flesh that we can truly, deeply, and unshakably rejoice in the Lord.